by LJ Vickery
His mind elsewhere, Wiley slammed into the back of Prez, who waited for the elevator. He bounced off the man, who was built like a tree trunk, reaching out to steady them both with an apologetic look.
“Jeez. Sorry, Prez.”
“Whoa… Wiles, my man. What the hell? You drunk this morning?” Prez grinned and sent a mock punch toward Wiley’s chest.
There was something that wouldn’t have happened a couple months ago. Usually, all you’d get from Prez was a grunt and a sullen look, but ever since he’d fallen for Maygan, who was now his fiancée, and they’d taken on two adolescent girls, the guy had become downright personable.
“Nah, although it might not be a bad idea.” Wiley feinted away from the jab. “I slept like shit last night.”
Prez must have heard the tension in his voice because his smile fell. “I’m sorry, Wiles. I take it that means you didn’t have any luck finding a house yesterday.”
Wiley furrowed his brows. House? Oh yeah. Thinking about Beauty all night, thoughts of the home he hoped to buy had completely dropped out of his head. He’d already forgotten he took yesterday afternoon off to look at a possible property. He’d entertained high hopes because of its size and location, but its completely unimpressive floorplan left him cold.
“Nope. No luck. The acreage was good, but the house was piss-poor. The framing must have been a first-time project forty years ago, and the lack of insulation was a joke. Add a lot of little, crappy rooms with tiny windows and putrid carpeting, and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”
“No chance of knocking down some walls to open it up?”
Once the elevator pinged and doors opened, the pair entered, doors sliding closed behind them.
“I thought of that, but load-bearing walls were in weird places. It would end up being a mish-mash, at best.” Wiley shrugged. There would be other properties.
“So… I give up. If that’s not fucking you up, what is?”
Wiley considered what to tell him. Anything he said about last night would sound imbecilic, so he kept his mouth shut. That didn’t mean Prez quit. Hell no. It wasn’t in any of the guys’ natures to back down.
“Let me guess then. Gambling debts? Putting on a few unwanted pounds? Woman troubles?”
Wiley pressed his lips together.
As the elevator reached their floor and the doors slid open, they walked out and down the hallway toward their office. Prez’s sharp eyes traveled over his face. Seconds later, he erupted with a “Hot damn” before barreling through the entrance to S.O.S. “Wiley’s got a new squeeze,” he announced.
Their receptionist’s head came up. “Izzat so?” Mizzay questioned tartly, taking in the situation at a glance. Wiley’s discomfort must have been apparent because she lowered her glasses and glared at Prez over the top of the large, black frames. “And who died and left you in charge of Mr. Prancingdeer’s love life?”
Prez had the good sense to look sheepish. “No one,” he mumbled.
“Good. Behave yourself, or I’ll tell Mayg,” the diminutive Mizzay scolded pointedly. “Now, you’re both twenty minutes late, so get your sweet asses into Mr. Songen’s office. Mr. Montverre, Mr. Seingold and Mr. Perkins are already in attendance, but the boss has been pacing again.”
Wiley thought it was cute the way Mizzay referred to them all by their surnames. They’d told her time and again she could dispense with the formality, but she refused to budge. Sometimes one could almost forget she couldn’t be more than thirty-five. She acted so much like a mother bear.
Wiley winked at her as Prez walked away, then bent over her desk and whispered, “He’s right.”
“Good to know.” Her eyes twinkled back. “Now move.”
Wiley stepped past a dawdling Prez and pushed open Del’s door. Sure enough, the boss traveled a well-worn pattern on the floor, his hair sticking up on end as his right eyebrow―always untamed―bounced up and down of its own volition. His mood looked to be about a three on a scale of one to ten.
“Where the hell have you two been?” he groused.
“One of the girls missed the bus and needed a ride this morning.” Prez shrugged as if to say, What do you want me to do about it?
Del blinked twice and looked at Wiley for his excuse. No time to be wishy-washy now. “Slept like hell, boss, and woke up late. My bad.”
“Suits me. I needed a goat to take the shit jobs today, Wiles, and that’s you.”
Del sat heavily in the chair at the head of the table and pulled up the day’s agenda on his laptop. Clearly, something was up with Wiley’s long-time best bud, but since Del had placed him directly in the barnyard, now didn’t seem like the time to ask.
“Let’s get down to it. We have an aging owner/CEO of Abdale Properties here in Boston,” Del said, naming a prominent construction company they’d all heard of, “who’s been estranged from her three children. She wants us to find them before she effects a deal for the sale of her shares.”
“Don’t tell me. If she likes where they’re at in their lives, she’ll cut them in on the profits,” Sarge interjected evenly. “And if she doesn’t…” He shrugged.
“You’ve nailed it in one, Sarge. Why don’t you and Billboard work together to find the trio? Mind you, she doesn’t want them to know she’s looking, so no heavy handedness. I trust you to work carefully.”
“Not a footprint or a line of code will so much as announce our presence,” Sarge assured him, his fingers already ramping to a million miles an hour on his ever-present keyboard.
Billboard chuckled. “What he said, boss. I’ll have him follow any search I do to wipe out fingerprints.”
“I expected nothing less.” Del regarded the itinerary again. “Prez and Perk, you’ll be on something a little different today. We got a call from the Acton State Police. Two of their horses have gone missing, and their video footage shows crap as to what happened. It had to have occurred late last night when their power went down and the generator didn’t fire up. Something that makes it look like no accident.” He handed them a slip of paper. “Here’s the name of the lieutenant in charge. Go directly to him and work with his team.”
It was nothing unusual for the guys to work with a police investigation. Sometimes, especially if they suspected one of their own in a crime, they pulled in an independent firm like S.O.S. to unravel any internal deceit. Most likely, this was one of those times.
“You got it, boss.” Prez made a whinnying sound and jostled Perk. “You ride any horses up in the wilds of Maine? More farm animals than squad cars up there.”
Henry Perkins had been an officer in the Orono PD before defecting to S.O.S. several months before.
“Nope. Never been as near to a horse’s ass as I am right now,” Perk shot back. Everyone in the room laughed, except Del…and Wiley, who was a little late on the uptake since his mind had partially wandered again.
“Wiles,” Del barked. “You got a problem we need to hear about?”
Wiley gave Del his best shut-it-down look, but the boss wasn’t having any of it.
“Let it out, Wiley. What’s crawled up your ass?”
“I think he’s in love.” Prez ratted him out, obviously choosing today to have a big mouth. All speculation, of course, but couldn’t the guy have kept his yap shut?
Digesting the word “love”, Wiley scoffed to himself. No way that could be the problem. He’d just met the woman last night and…
“And I don’t even know her name.”
Eyes wide, he looked around the table, seeing their expressions. Damn it all to hell. He’d said that out loud. Now he was in for a ration of shit.
“Don’t know whose name?” Sarge looked ready to start jabbing away at his computer keys again if that was what it took to help Wiley.
“I don’t know. I… Listen, can we not talk about this now? Let’s all get back to work. What have you got on the books for me, Del?”
His best friend didn’t look like he wanted to drop it, but after examining W
iley’s face, gave a huge sigh and went back to his agenda, albeit reluctantly. “You get the leftovers today, Wiles. A husband who didn’t come home last night.”
Wiley groaned. He hated getting the deadbeats, but someone had to take the crap cases, and since he’d blown it by being late without an excuse, he’d drawn the short straw. Not that his current degree of self-absorption would make him bail on what ate at Del, either. His friend didn’t look good, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.
“Okay, that’s it,” Del concluded after covering a few more details on their assignments. “Class dismissed,” he added sarcastically. Shuffling papers and scratching his chin, he waited for everyone to leave the room.
Wiley didn’t budge. He didn’t hide the fact that he and the boss were headed for a heart-to-heart.
Del stood. “You look like somebody pulled your pin and you’re ready to explode, Wiley.”
That was one way to put it. And even though he wanted to whine in his buddy’s ear about his confusing night, he was determined to push that aside to see what bugged Del. Normally unflappable, even in life-or-death situations like they’d undertaken when rescuing Del’s wife, Bri, from her unscrupulous godfather, Wiley was concerned.
As soon as the door closed behind the guys, he pinned Del down with a stare. “You wanna tell me what’s up?”
“Yeah.” Del flopped down onto his chair. “They’re inducing Bri in…” He looked at his phone, “two hours.”
“Well, hell, buddy. Get your ass to the hospital and go have a baby. We’ve got things here.”
Del tilted his head at him. “Are you sure, Wiles? Something’s not right with you.”
“I’ll be fine, and so will work for the next couple days.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
“Never more sure.”
Del closed his laptop and stood. He clapped Wiley on the back and―looking positively green―left the room.
Chapter Four
The week seemed interminable. To someone who loved her new life and enjoyed every well-planned moment of each day, Solina already resented Wiley for having usurped her normal, predictable existence. Even the mystery of her new puzzle box―the one she’d so far been unable to solve―hadn’t occupied her for nearly long enough or kept her from being preoccupied. She glanced at the clock again. Three thirty. An hour before she needed to leave, which would give her an hour to preview the auction before it began. Great. More time to think.
Business had been slow today. That wasn’t unusual for a Monday, but she wished it could have been busier as a distraction. It might have been the first time Solina ever pined for the cacophony of customers. Normally, quiet was good. But today… She bit her lip in consternation. Every time two or more minutes strung together without activity, her mind wandered to whether Wiley would show up tonight.
How one man could take up so much brain space remained an anomaly for Solina. Since making a firm decision a year ago to change her screwed-up reality, for the second time in her twenty-eight years, she hadn’t been swayed from her resolve by anything…or anyone. And before all the upheavals in her life, both good and bad, there’d been no thought of men. Her parents made sure of that. But now, with only the blink of a pair of hazel-brown eyes, her peaceful equilibrium became upended.
On the front door of Sol’s Smalls, her antique shop, she turned the sign to “closed”, locked it up and headed out the back. It would do no good to stick around straightening shelves. The harmony of her store had fallen abnormally flat today. Perhaps a long shower and some attention to personal detail might help.
Forty-five minutes later, Solina sat in front of her dressing table mirror and sighed. Who knew that mascara, unused for six years, would dry up? She tossed the tube into the trash and shrugged. It was probably for the best. Why should she work to impress a man she’d just met, one who probably wouldn’t show up tonight anyway? If she were being honest with herself, it would be best if he didn’t. Then she could get her head back where it belonged—calm, settled and independent. That had been her mantra since moving to her new home. A mantra she needed to remember.
She grabbed her all-purpose tote, already laden with her purse, phone, two apples and two granola bars…as well as a few more necessities. If Wiley did make an appearance, she didn’t want to be rude and eat without offering him something.
Sure. That was the reason.
Snow fell in light, wispy flakes as she made her way to her car. Solina hadn’t looked at the forecast, but she hoped they weren’t in for a storm. Driving the forty minutes home after the auction might be a challenge for her old car if there were snow on the road. No four-wheel or front-wheel drive for her. She’d done okay so far this winter, but she wasn’t a huge fan. Tonight, however, a tsunami wouldn’t stop her from going out.
Sure enough, by the time she reached the auction, snow had begun falling in earnest. She grimaced at the flakes that crept down her collar as she walked, but regardless, she craned her neck to gaze out over the parking lot. She didn’t see any tall, broad-shouldered man making his way toward the building, but it was still early for a novice―and, clearly, Wiley was one―to arrive. She shuffled into the building and relished in the warmth of the lobby as she shook off her coat. Any other time, she would have been excited that the weather would keep crowds away and bargain prices would be the rule, but tonight, she could barely concentrate. There lay something else for which she could blame Wiley’s overwhelming presence in her brain—diminished enjoyment. Solina scowled. He really had screwed up her entire week.
She stomped forward with purpose. Head back in the game, girl.
There appeared to be an abundance of sale lots tonight, and after placing her coat and bag on a chair―perhaps encroaching on a second seat, just in case―she squelched her hopes and headed to peruse the offerings.
A vintage Japanese porcelain chocolate set in vibrant gold, brown and orange caught her eye. Beautiful, and one she’d never seen before. She ran an appreciative hand over a brass inkwell she might or might not bid on. But was it a must buy? Not as much as a set of old, graduated wooden-handled chisels.
Solina slowly continued her circuit around the room, making her way to a table holding a variety of small antiquities. Curious, she picked up an ancient set of brass knuckles.
“Not gonna use those on anybody, are you?” Deep tones resonated right next to her ear, causing a delicious shiver to slide down her spine. The owner of that voice, and Solina knew exactly who it had to be, breathed in such a way as to stir the small hairs on her nape.
Dammit. She had to move away before she begged him to follow up with his lips.
As calmly as possible, she placed the item back onto the table. “Shhh. You’re not supposed to indicate you have an interest in something during the preview,” she chastised as evenly as her voice would allow. Solina stepped to the left, but if she thought to duck out of range, she was mistaken. He followed closely behind.
“So if I have a fascination with these, for instance?” He picked up a pair of handcuffs and dangled them from a strong finger.
Certainly he isn’t suggesting…
Glancing at his face before turning back to the items on the table, she saw he absolutely was. Even someone as unsophisticated as Solina could figure out what he insinuated. Barely able to unravel her tongue, she stumbled over her reply.
“Then…yes…well… If… If you want them, you need to examine them without a flicker of interest on your face and make a mental note to bid on them.”
“Huh.”
At the sound of dissension, she partially turned to watch his lovely brow develop a wrinkle.
“What?” Solina questioned.
“The lady at the desk said I should write down anything I want.”
She shook her head and looked back at the table. “Some people do, but I prefer to keep things in my head so I don’t call attention to myself or an item that might otherwise escape the crowd’s notice.”
&nbs
p; “That makes sense,” he agreed. “But if you think anything you do escapes notice, you need to look around.” He continued seriously. “There are at least half a dozen men in this room who haven’t taken their eyes off you.”
Now it was Solina’s turn to scoff. “And you, sir, are either delusional or attempting unnecessary flattery.”
Wiley gave a small smile. “Delusional, no. Flattery, yes, but I don’t consider it unnecessary. So… Where are we sitting tonight?”
Attempting to ignore his sweet talk, Solina focused on his question. “We?” She hoped her voice didn’t sound as breathless to his ears as it did to hers. “What makes you think we’re sitting together?”
“Because you invited me back.” He didn’t sound unsure of himself in any way.
“Funny. I don’t remember that.” Her heart started doing backflips in her chest.
“Well, that’s the way I interpreted it, so you’re responsible for me now. Without your expert guidance, I might be tempted to bid too much on that.” He lifted his chin in the direction of a dusty, moth-eaten moose head.
Solina couldn’t hold back an amused snort. “Well, now that I know you’re interested, I’ll make sure you don’t miss out on a unique item.”
She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard Wiley mumble, “I’m definitely interested.”
The tingling in her body ramped up a notch. He was definitely flirting, which meant she could attempt the same. What harm would it do? She’d only had a brief opportunity to try out her feminine wiles during college. Never before that because of her parents, and not after because her life had spiraled out of control. But she was in a much healthier place now and itched to spread her wings.
“I might have brought you an apple and a health bar.” She dared turn to look into his face. A glorious smile and flashing white teeth over a chiseled cleft in his chin met her perusal. How could one guy have all that appeal and not be taken? She took a quick glance at his ring finger. Nothing there. But did that really mean anything?